


Red String of Fate

by goodbyekillingharmony



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, but i had this in my drafts as a wip and wanted to finish it, i know i havent written for them in a while, so here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24011359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodbyekillingharmony/pseuds/goodbyekillingharmony
Summary: After falling at the Battle of Winterfell, Theon Greyjoy tries to find his own resolve in the afterlife.However, much to his horror, he realizes he's not alone here.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Reek, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Red String of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for just dipping on you thramsay community I promise I still love this ship so here you go
> 
> idk how long this has been sitting in my drafts and its like 3 am and I'm too tired to proof read it but here it is idk if this is good or not h

It was rather… cold. Unsurprisingly enough. Theon didn't know what he was thinking; rushing the Night King like that, getting killed so easily. It's not like he could just redo anything. No point in worrying, I guess. But, this place, wherever Greyjoy was, was rather empty. No fiery depths of hell or the beautiful white clouds of heaven, just… Nothing. Nothing seemed to exist here.

I suppose he couldn't complain too much, what with all the atrocities he's committed, anyway - it makes a lot of sense. Suppose it is too little too late for him, but something in Greyjoy was still determined to improve himself, even if he's the only one here. I guess all that's left for him to do is to just… walk. Alone. With his thoughts.

...This'll definitely take some getting used to.

And so he did just that. It was rather calming, at least he would be finally able to truly and fully heal. He kept repeating his name, 'Theon. I'm Theon. I'm Theon Greyjoy. Theon Greyjoy.' Seemed simple enough at first, right? It was a start, I suppose. So, he kept at it, muttering it like a mantra to himself. 

The man wasn't paying attention to his surroundings anymore, just closing his eyes and kept on repeating his name, 'Theon. Theon Greyjoy. I-I'm Theon Greyjoy."

Theon suddenly felt a horrible chill run down his spine, his… body? spirit? Needless to say, something made him tense, freeze in place. He didn't know how long he had been walking around, if time even passed at all, but suddenly,

that safe haven of peace came crashing down just as quickly as it had arrived.

The man fearfully turned around and felt his whole world crashing down. It was him.

By the Gods… It was him.

Theon instinctively moved away from the man, the man dressed in his wedding attire, the day the Bastard of Bolton raped Sansa… It was almost as if no time had even passed. Of course he knew that he died, but, seeing him like this, perfectly fine and alive when he couldn't even feel his own presence…

Theon hated the fact that this certain feeling wasn't foreign to him in the slightest.

"G-Get away from me, Ramsay."

"Oh, that doesn't sound very assertive now, doesn't it, Reek?" Ramsay's face was painted with a sinister grin. It looked all too familiar. Greyjoy felt something shake deep within him.

"Don't… call me Reek. I'm… Theon Greyjoy."

"What's with the hesitation, now? Don't think you're so high and mighty now because you died a "hero". Even until you're very last moment, you hesitated. And that got you killed. Simple as that, Reek. Don't forget you're still weak."

"...You're right. I am weak. ...T-That I'm letting you still do this…"

"I'm glad we both agree! And here I thought you assumed you were a hero!"

"I-I've never been a hero! Even if I wanted to be one at one point, I couldn't. N-Nothing you say will ever bring me back to you. I'll fight it. I'll fight it for the rest of eternity if I have to, I'm not going to be yours again."

Ramsay's smirk all too quickly turned into something of great malice. His icy cold glare staring directly at Theon, however, Theon merely looked at him back, trying his very hardest not to submit under him again. He couldn't do that. Not again. Not after finally breaking through.

Bolton started approaching him, pulling out a very familiar knife. Theon became sick to his stomach, the discomfort in his groin becoming overwhelmingly painful. However, Greyjoy stood his ground, firmly standing perfectly still while glaring at the Bolton.

Once he had finally reached his target, Ramsay dropped the facade just as quickly as he picked it up. The bastard now had a warm smile on his face, a smile that could fool anyone who wasn't already aware. That's what frightened Theon the most.

They stood there silent for a bit, supposedly waiting for the other to start the conversation. When Greyjoy shifted his eyes to look at something else rather than Ramsay, the bastard immediately started talking, almost as if he was waiting for this very moment, his voice coated in sickening sweetness with an undertone of malice.

"I'm not saying you haven't changed. You escaped, after all. Went on a self-righteous ego trip with your whore of a sister, I know all about it. It didn't really matter in the end, did it? You're binded to me. And now it looks like it's going to stay that way, just for a lot longer now. 

Ramsay's soft tone slowly turned into a teasing one as he took the man's face in his hands and held it tightly, looking at him lovingly as Theon tried to fight back showing Ramsay his despair. He… can't. He mustn't! He absolutely couldn't afford to do that! He can't lose! He can't lose. He can't lose…

One of Ramsay's knees moved to his mangled manhood and started rubbing it, teasing it almost, the sweet smile disappearing to show the darkened expression of a truly demented man. Theon gave a pathetic whimper in response.

But, do you remember how I feel, Reek? Surely you haven't forgotten. How you writhed underneath me, how you screamed underneath me… Gods, you acted like such a whore. Sounded like one too. You can't deny what I've done to you. I've stripped away so… so much of you, Even if you claim to be Theon Greyjoy, you'll never be able to escape from me."

"W-Why…?! W-Why am I letting you do this to me?" 

Ramsay continued to caress his face as his knee started rubbing against it more and more. Theon's tears had finally escaped him, only leaving the Bastard of Bolton to lap it up with his tongue.

"You love me, Reek. I made sure of that."

He should have punched him. Kicked him. Strangled him, goddamn, he should have done anything! Anything except… stand there and… take it. D-Did he know from the start? How is that even possible?

Do something! Anything! You're Theon! Theon Greyjoy!

"Oh, my sweet Reek…-

Theon Greyjoy.

"-How long have I waited for this moment-

Greyjoy…

"Now, we can finally be together again. After all-

…

Ramsay belongs to Reek."

"...A-And Reek belongs to Ramsay."

It's over. He lost. He lost to himself again. There was nothing else he could say. Nothing he could have done… Absolutely nothing at all…

He was Reek. Ramsay's Reek. A freak. 

-

Reek felt himself curl up more on Ramsay's lap and let his tears freely flow this time. He felt the bastard rub circles on his back as he cooed in his ear. His heart was aching even more. The two sides of him continuing their conflict. But, Reek was too tired for that. Too tired to think about that.

However, that small bit of Theon still remained.

Greyjoy would rather relive his death for the rest of eternity than be stuck with Bolton.

Was he really not as strong as he thought? Theon's brain was yelling, begging him to just try to find a way out of his hell. Refusing to accept that any of the Gods, the old ones and the new, would put him in the same place as Ramsay Bolton. It just couldn't be possible, it refused to believe it.

Why was he bestowed a fate so atrocious? ...Did he really deserve this? Is this where the universe wanted him to be? His head hurt too much from thinking about it.

He slowly looked down at his hands and saw the mangled mess. He felt his clothes rub harshly through his torso. He felt himself cowering in fear.

This was the ending he had earned, he thought. An ending he would have to endure.

"What's your name?"

"Reek, m'lord. Ramsay's Reek."

"It makes me very happy to hear that. ...Do you love me, Reek?"

"I-I love you, m'lord."

"And now we're here where we belong."


End file.
